


how to say to you?

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, HASHTAG GAY FOR HAMILTON, Hamilton References, Heavy Angst, I’m obsessed, Letters, M/M, Parksborn, Past Character Death, Peter can sing, Songfic, because no, fight me, i love hamilton, kind of, nothing gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21628969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter tells his daughter some sad news... wiTh a MusiCAl twIsT
Relationships: Harry Osborn/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	how to say to you?

**Author's Note:**

> hey so thanks for tapping and reading this, it is currently 4:20 in the morning (BLAZING) and I’ve been awake for like two hours! Enjoy! 
> 
> Also if you actually like Hamilton... and you somehow haven’t heard the cut song ‘Dear Theodosia Reprise...’ do yourself but a favor and LISTEN AND FEEL MY PAIN  
> or um yknow check out my other Hamilton fic which is different from any other Ham fic ever posted so uh yeah

_Dear Theodosia..._

It was all cliché, really, Peter decided. The weather was gloomy: rain and heavy dark clouds covering the sky above him on a day like today. He’d been up all night, and it showed. Dark circles hung under his eyes, his semi-curly brown hair was somehow messier than usual. His cheeks were stained with tears from hours ago, minutes ago, seconds, he had no idea. He was just lucky it wasn’t affecting his driving. People in the cars around him had no idea what he was going through. They might be going through shit, maybe not, maybe they are happily married and have kids and their _goddamn spouse didn’t just die._  
At the sight of a red light, Peter slammed the breaks on his car, jerking him forward against his seatbelt.  
His hands gripped the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. And he was trembling. His back, his arms, everything shook as his reddish eyes struggled to stop more tears. His lower lip was being held firmly between his teeth. The light turned green, and the car lurched forward.   
Peter only let go of his lip when he tasted a small tang of blood on his tongue. _Pain._

_How to say to you?_

The apartment complex looked the same. The old homeless lady was sitting under the same umbrella, surrounded by the same blankets. Peter dropped a couple bucks in her cup. She smiled and thanked him, so he forced a smile back and asked if she would be heading to F.E.A.S.T. anytime soon. Of course, she would say, because it was where Aunt May worked, and Aunt May was the kindest person alive. Peter said goodbye after that and made his way upstairs; of course the elevator was broken. Three floors up, he went into the hall and finally made it to the door. Suddenly, he felt so young. He was thirty, for Christ’s sake, and he’d lived through a lifetime in that amount of time. He grew up, his parents died, he fell in love, got married, had a child, and now…   
He was getting riled up, and he wasn’t even inside yet. But his fist was clenched tighter and tighter while his arm folded up against the doorframe and his forehead resting on it. He closed his eyes and swallowed the tears. Not now. Not now. _Not now, just hold on._  
  
 _Sometime last night_

When Peter finally opened the door, he had expected the lights to be off in the apartment. Instead, the hall and kitchen lights were on, and right in front of the door sat a figure leaning against the wall. He crouched down and sighed, reaching out to fix a curl on his daughter’s forehead. Harriet had fallen asleep waiting for ~~them~~ him, by the looks of it. With ease, he picked her up and nestled her against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. It amazed him that she hadn’t even stirred upon being moved from her spot on the floor. It brought a small smile to Peter’s face, but there was pain behind it. Moving quietly through the apartment, he brought her back to her room and laid her down in her bed. She shifted a little at the movement, and Peter found himself holding his breath as she wiggles under the blankets. Finally, her eyes slowly flickered open.  
“Papa?” she said drowsily.   
He smiled. “Hey, Harriet. How long were you awake?”  
She frowned a little and wiped at her eyes. “What time is it?”   
“Two AM.”   
She sighed and looked up at her father. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I tried to stay up for when you and daddy came home, but I got really tired… where is daddy? Did he go to sleep already? I didn’t get to say hi and welcome him home…”

_Your mother breathed your name  
And like a flame that flickers out too soon  
She died, she’s  
Gone_

Peter could feel his heart breaking with every word. Tears formed in his eyes, and no matter how many times he wiped them away, they kept forming and slipping down his cheeks. Harriet looked at him with concern.  
“Papa? What happened?”  
He sniffed and gave her a sad, small smile.  
“Oh, Harriet…” he sighed. “ _How to say to you?_ ” he sang gently.   
“ _Sometime last night, your father breathed your name… and like a flame that flickers out too soon, he- he died, he’s-“ he choked on a sob and clenched a part of her blanket in his fist. “He’s gone._ ”  
Harriet’s dark brown eyes were wide with confusion and sadness. “W-what?”  
Peter shook his head and reached out to cup her cheek. “ _He dedicated everyday to you… he changed my life, he made my life worthwhile, and… when you smile…_ ” He moved his hand down to her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Though there were tears streaming down her own cheeks now, she managed to give him what he was asking for. She smiled.  
“ _I know a part of him lives on, and I know I can go on._ ”  
Harriet leaned forward and hugged Peter’s torso, burying her face in his chest. Her tears were staining his shirt, but he didn’t care. He simply returned the embrace.  
“ _You have come of age with grace and determination… we bleed and fight for you, sometimes it seems that’s all we do. And you and I will build a strong foundation… And I’ll be here for you. The way is clear for you to blow us all away, someday… someday… blow us all away…_ ”  
Peter gently ran his fingers through the messy curls that sat on Harriet’s head. He was sad that Harry’s genes were never truly passed to her, since MJ agreed to be the surrogate mother and Peter had been the one to… well, carry it out. But somehow, her smile really did remind him of his husband.  
“You have a nice voice, papa,” she said finally, her voice quiet and muffled by his chest. She moved her face away and looked up at him once more. “Did he really say my name?”  
Peter sniffed and nodded, lifting her chin to plant a kiss to her nose. “Yes, peanut. He was thinking of you, and I was there with him… he was happy.”  
Harriet nodded and looked down at her lap. “I’m sorry, papa.”  
“What for?”  
“I know you loved each other.”  
He smiled. “We did love each other, Harriet. That’s why we got married and had you.”  
She smiled at him, but was interrupted by a big yawn.   
“Why don’t you go back to sleep, peanut? I’ll wake you up for breakfast and then we have to take care of some things.”   
“Alright papa.”  
Peter kissed her forehead and tucked her in, turning off the light as he left her room and shut the door behind him. As soon as the door was shut, he let out a long sigh and almost collapsed right then and there. But he couldn’t let Harriet see him like this, so he stumbled to his room and fell right onto his side of the bed. _God_ , would he even need a side anymore? He supposed he could still sleep on “his side,” it would probably feel natural, but… it would be cold on the other side. Growing restless, he turned and reached for Harry’s pillow and shoved his nose into it. It smelled like Harry, or at least his shampoo, and Peter chased the scent. But then, a folded piece of paper slid out of the pillowcase and landed right next to Peter’s arm. He peeked his nose over the pillow and gently picked it up. On the front, it read Peter. Swiftly, he sat up in bed with Harry’s pillow in his lap and slowly unfolded the letter. 

_Dear Peter,  
I’m writing this the day after our marriage on our flight to Italy for the honeymoon. I don’t know when you’ll be reading this, but hopefully it’s been a long and happy life. Hopefully we’ve both learned and grown, and maybe we’re fostering our child’s growth as well. Anyways, if you’re reading this, it means I’ve left it for you to find somewhere at the right time after my death. I know you well, my love, so I trust I’ll put it in the right place.   
Peter. You know I’ve been battling with this disease for quite some time (assuming that’s how I went out), and you knew this day would come. Please, don’t cry because I’m gone. This might be the most cliché thing I’ve ever said, but smile because of the time we did have together. You’re my everything, Peter Parker. I think I’d have died a long time ago without you. Right now, you’re sleeping next to me on the plane with some drool coming out of your mouth. You’re lucky I love you, since that’s what husbands do.  
I’ll be adding onto this letter moments before I go to the hospital or whatever. Maybe I’ll be cured and you’ll never have to read this. But for now, I’ll just spend every moment of my life loving you and whatever you come with. _

_Harry_

Peter’s eyes trailed down to the new part of the letter.

_Peter-  
You’re asleep next to me, just like you were when I wrote the first part of this letter. Thank god there’s no drool coming out of your mouth this time. Just kidding. You’d still be cute with a little dribble. Sorry, I’ll focus, you handsome bastard.   
Tomorrow I’ll be going to the hospital. I know I’m going to die there, Peter. That’s ok. I’ve come to terms with death. And I don’t mean that I’m not sad to leave you and Harriet behind… because I do worry about you… But regardless, I know you’ll do me right in raising our daughter. My love, I hope you know that there’s not a second of our relationship that I regret. From when we were dumb teenagers graduating high school and drinking underage to now, as I lie awake writing this. You look so peaceful when you’re sleeping. The worry lines on your forehead disappear and your curls accentuate your freckles, making you look like a goddamn angel.   
My angel.  
I love you, Peter. I always have and I always will. You and Harriet. My family. Thank you for giving me the life I never deserved. Thank you for loving me like you did.  
Goodbye, my love. I hope you think of me fondly.  
  
Harry_

Peter choked back what seemed like the one hundredth sob throughout reading the letter. It was just like Harry to not even be sappy and still manage to make him cry. It got to the point where Peter couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and simply began sobbing out loud. God, he missed Harry. Already. It hadn’t been a full day, not even twelve hours… He dug his fingers into the pillow on his lap, hugging it closer to his chest and crying into the soft fabric.   
But apparently, it wasn’t enough to silence his cries, for they hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. Harriet slowly pushed the door open and made her way to the side of the bed where her father was sitting.  
“Papa?” she said quietly.   
Peter looked up at her and quickly wiped his face. “I thought you went to sleep, peanut.”  
“You’re crying,” she pouted.  
Peter shook his head. “I’m fine, I just… I got a little sad, is all.”   
But Harriet persisted. She hauled herself up onto the bed and snuggled into her father’s side. “You can cry too, papa. It doesn’t make you weak.”  
“When did you get so wise?” Peter whispered, sniffing.   
“Daddy said I got that from you.”  
Peter laughed. “Of course he said that. He forgets that he’s- was a smart man, too.” He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “I’m sorry I woke you up, peanut. Your daddy left me a letter and it brought back a lot of memories.”  
“Can I read it?” Harriet asked.   
“Maybe when you’re older,” Peter replied. “There’s some stuff in there that you’re too young to understand. But I promise, one day you’ll be able to read it.”  
Harriet nodded. “Ok. Can I stay with you?”  
Peter smiled and pushed back some of the covers so she could crawl under. “As long as you promise to sleep.”  
“I will, papa. I love you.”  
“I love you too, Harriet.”  
He reached over to the bedside table and turned off the light. 

**Author's Note:**

> DID YOU CATCH THE OTHER MUSICAL REFERENCE?? PHANTOM OF THE OPERA?? God I’m such a nerd but anyways
> 
> do y’all want another part? or an alternate universe? I was thinking of writing one where instead of Harry dying it’s Peter and it’s like the same situation but how Harry would react and idk i just thought it might be interesting-  
> but for another part maybe a flashback to some happiness? LET ME KNOW PLS


End file.
